


Break Down My Walls

by nerdwegian



Series: Tumblr Prompts [31]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, POV Outsider, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-24 22:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2599346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdwegian/pseuds/nerdwegian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Besides, this place needs a little color. Jesus, Phil, it was like living in the Bat cave!"</p>
<p>(Tumblr prompt: Home renovation.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Break Down My Walls

It's not that Jesse doesn't trust Chris, it's just that--well, he doesn't trust Chris.

"Are you sure we're at the right place?" he asks her, looking dubiously at the building.

"Positive," she says, nudging Jesse's elbow with her own. "Why?"

"This looks a lot like a place for rich folks," Jesse says, taking in the shiny surfaces, the architecture, the door man who looks somewhat scary. "Rich folks don't hire guys like us."

"This guy did," Chris says, shrugging. "Come on, old man."

"All right, if you're sure," Jesse says with a heavy sigh, following Chris across the street. He thinks that even if this is a real job and Chris hasn't gotten the address down wrong somewhere, whatever fancy-pants person lives in this joint won't want to hire them after their initial conversation. "I'm not even sure why he'd call us."

"He says he knows Simone, now shush," Chris says, just as they reach the doorman. She gives him her sunniest smile, and Jesse resists the urge to roll his eyes. "Hi!" Chris says brightly. "We're here to see Mr. Coulson?"

The doorman's face slides from what's clearly a very intentionally blank look, into a grimace that's more akin to a child sucking on a lemon. "Oh. _Coulson_ ," the doorman says, as if the very name annoys him. "Sure. Whatever. Fifteenth floor, apartment--actually, you know what? Just go on up. You can't miss it."

Chris's sunny smile fades a little, but she somehow doesn't let it slip entirely. Jesse catches her eye and they exchange a confused look, before they move past the doorman.

When they're in the elevator, Jesse looks at Chris, who's staring at the doors and doing a reasonably decent impression of pretending nothing's wrong.

"That was weird, right?" Jesse asks.

Chris just shrugs and makes a noncommittal noise.

"Really," Jesse presses on. "I mean, who is this guy? What if he's some eccentric rich asshole? Doorman like that gets paid to put up with rich assholes, so his reaction down there doesn't exactly fill me with confidence."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Chris says, though Jesse thinks he might detect a sliver of doubt.

"If he's an ass, I reserve the right to walk out," Jesse grumbles.

"He didn't seem like an ass on the phone," Chris says cautiously, and then Jesse has to bite back any possibly response, because just then the elevator stops at the fifteenth floor, the doors sliding open.

They step into the hallway and Jesse is just about to ask which direction they're supposed to go in, when they both stop and stare.

"Oh," Chris says, in a very small voice.

"Well," Jesse says, "at least now we know what the doorman meant?"

It's true. It's impossible to miss.

Four doors down to the right, there's a gaping hole in the wall. Rubble spills out from the apartment within, and there are scorch marks here and there. On the opposite wall in the hallway, there's a distinct person-shaped dent, and more scorch marks.

Inching closer, Chris leans forward until they can see in through the hole. "Hello?"

The apartment within is--well. Jesse isn't sure how to process this at all. It might have been a fancy apartment at one point in time, all slick surfaces and dark, shiny appliances. Now, honestly, it's difficult to tell. There's a lot of scorch marks and something that looks like clay or mud stuck to the walls. There's what looks to be the remnants of a leather couch sitting in two pieces, one end shoved against a wall, and the other sitting next to a pile of splintered wood.

Feathers, probably from some form of bedding, is everywhere, and the ceiling light, lopsided and flickering, is covered in something slimy. On the far wall, several arrows protrude, and this has got to be both the weirdest and creepiest thing to ever happen to Jesse.

Chris’s jaw is hanging down, her eyes wide, and Jesse realizes that his own face must look about the same.

"Uh, hello?" Chris says again, carefully stepping through the hole in the wall.

"Should we be doing this?" Jesse wonders. "Shouldn't we be getting the fuck out of here?"

"But I spoke to the guy on the phone," Chris says faintly.

"Fuck that, this is creepy and weird and we should be going!" Jesse hisses, scowling when Chris doesn't listen and instead takes another few steps into the apartment. "Chris. Chris. Christina!"

"Whoa," Chris says, not listening to Jesse in the least, as she looks around a corner.

Jesse sighs heavily and looks around once, before stepping through the hole after her. "I have a really fucking bad feeling about this."

The area around the corner is the kitchen. Jesse stops next to Chris and stares some more.

The heavy granite countertops are splintered and cracked in multiple locations, and near the fridge by the window, it's just gone altogether, the cupboard underneath half exposed. The window is somehow, miraculously still whole, but it's covered in food splatter. The sink is loose, tipped forward out of its place in the counter, and there's a very small, very thin dribble of water coming from one tap. The stove is mostly a heap of metal, but curling outwards, like a flower blooming. Or like something burst outwards from inside it.

Jesse shudders.

"Hey," he says, nudging Chris's arm. "Hey, I think it's time to go. For real."

"What the hell happened here?" Chris wonders out loud.

Just then there's a shuffling behind them, and they both spin around in time to see two men enter through the hole in the wall. One of them is wearing ragged jeans and a t-shirt that looks to be a couple of sizes too small, and the other is wearing a suit that might cost more than Jesse makes in an entire year.

"No, absolutely not," Suit says, stepping over a chunk of plaster. "I already told you, no extreme colors."

"Purple isn't an extreme color," Jeans says, sounding deeply offended. "Besides, this place needs a little color. Jesus, Phil, it was like living in the Bat cave!"

"It's a good thing we didn't spend much time here, then," Suit--Phil snaps back, and Jeans is just drawing a breath, looking like he's preparing one hell of a speech, when both men suddenly seem to realize they're not alone.

They turn to look at Jesse and Chris in unison, and Chris wiggles her fingers nervously. "Hi."

Jeans blinks for one second, two, and then suddenly seems to snap out of it, striding forward and shaking Chris's hand. "Oh! Hi! Chris Wright? Yeah, sorry, I guess I lost track of time."

His biceps make Jesse bristle, and his easygoing smile even more so.

"It's okay," Chris says, clearly charmed. "We were a little early anyway, I think. You're Mr. Coulson?"

"Oh," Jeans says, shaking his head at the same time as Phil raises a hand behind him. "I'm Clint, we spoke on the phone, I know Simone? But that's Coulson," he says, gesturing to Phil. "Phil Coulson. It's his apartment."

"Nice to meet you," Chris says to Coulson, smiling, before gesturing to Jesse.

"This is my father, Jesse," Chris says. "He's the kitchen expert, and from what I can see, it looks like he'll have his work cut out for him." She shares a laugh with Clint, and normally Jesse would feel warm and happy with the obvious pride in Jesse's voice when she talks about him, but right now all he can focus on is how Clint still hasn't let go of Chris's hand.

"A little more work than I'm comfortable with, frankly," Jesse says, sounding more sour than he intended. Jesse's head snaps around, and she gives him a scandalized look, as if she can't believe he'd turn down a job this big. Jesse doesn't care. He renovates kitchens, he doesn't clean up after--whatever crazy freakshow fight happened here.

Behind Clint, Phil crosses both arms across his chest and clears his throat pointedly, though for some reason he's got a vague smile on his face. Jesse's not sure what there is to smile about presently.

"You're not gonna take the job?" Clint asks with a sheepish grin.

"Dad," Chris hisses. "Ink-thay about the oney-may."

"Nice," Jesse grits out. "Subtle."

"But really," Clint says, hurriedly. "Money's not an issue."

"It's not the money I'm worried about," Jesse says, and then nods in preparation to leave. "It was good to meet you, good luck with your--war zone, I guess."

"You owe me a new apartment," Phil says to Clint, at the same time as Chris insists, " _Dad!_ " again.

"Really," Clint says, sounding downright desperate now, as he skids over to stop Jesse in his tracks. "Simone says you guys are the best, and I really need the best. Please."

Jesse hesitates.

"Please," Clint begs again, and then leans in a little so he can whisper in a decidedly un-subtle tone, "He's still making me sleep on the couch, even though it's been _days_ now."

And Jesse thinks that at least that explains a few things. Glancing down, he notices the subtle gold band on Clint's hand, and the matching one on Phil's. Chris must see them too, judging from the way her posture changed, but to her credit, she doesn't do much more than flinch a little in surprise. Jesse scowls at Clint, and then glances over at Phil.

"I think we should do this," Chris whispers behind him.

Sighing, Jesse looks around. "I suppose we can at least have our meeting. Find out what you need to be done here."

"Okay," Clint says, smiling and getting out a few nervous barks of laughter in obvious relief. "Okay, good, thank you, thank you man, thank you!"

"Don't mention it," Jesse says, and really means it. He wonders if he can make Chris sit this one out. "So what happened here?"

"First of all," Clint warns, "I just would like to state, with you guys as my honest to god witnesses, that for once, _I_ was not responsible for this mess!"

End.


End file.
